Everest
by UnlikelyOrdinary
Summary: As Emma restarts her life in Maine and a new relationship with Killian, an unknown enemy emerges from the mountaintops. Emma's magic and faith will be tested as she battles against the new threat and the demons of her past, while eternal winter blankets Storybrooke. Killian's eyes hardened in anger, Emma's screams echoing in his ears. "It's over. And I will exact my revenge."
1. Chapter 1

Hot chocolate could cure any problem. She told, or thought she had told, Henry that his entire life, after every fight, every crush he had that went sour, after every bad test in school. When he started having bad dreams of monsters chasing him in the woods, probably a residual memory of Storybrooke coming back to him, Emma made whip cream and covered the hot chocolate with the decadent treat, dusting cinnamon over it as a final touch.

Now, the best cup of hot cocoa north of the Maine border could not soothe Emma or knock her out of her distress. The large mug sat in front of her, whip cream and cinnamon melting into the steaming cup that remained untouched. She sighed and twirled the remaining froth with her finger, scooping some up and licking it off, not actually tasting the sugar on her tongue.

Granny's was still abuzz with many fairy tale characters milling about, sharing stories of the year that never was and their new trials and tribulations in their new realm. Admittedly, there was a tense atmosphere underlying the otherwise calm evening, after Regina had stormed out and Robin reunited with Marian.

Emma looked up and saw Henry talking to his grandparents, give David a hug, stroke the soft cheek of his uncle, and then hurry out the door without so much as looking at her. She wasn't worried when he ran out into the night, turning to the left and jogging away. Storybrooke was safe now, and Emma had a fair hunch where he was headed.

Stomach suddenly upset, Emma pushed away the cocoa and put her chin in her hand, focusing on the outdated pattern of the booth in front of her in an effort to distract herself from thinking about the situation she landed in the with the Evil Queen.

Suddenly, a figure occupied the booth opposite her, startling Emma out of her reverie.

"This isn't on you, lass." Killian insisted earnestly without preamble. Emma, however, forced a smile and inquired what he meant.

"I'm fine." She added with a forced smile, not looking into his eyes.

Killian sighed and shifted forward, so their knees were brushing under the table. "Come on, lass. There's no point in fibbing. What you did was the noble thing to do."

"But it wasn't the _right_ thing." Emma countered hotly. "I disobeyed the one rule we were supposed to follow, Killian. Don't change anything. Don't interfere. And now look at the consequences."

Killian heaved a sigh, searching Emma's face for a moment before slowly forming his next sentence. "You're the savior, Swan. The product of true love." He looked directly into her eyes for a second, and the space between them became charged with electricity and heat. "It's in your nature to be compassionate and help others. Especially when they cannot help themselves. You saved a life. There was no way you could have foreseen the repercussions."

Emma bit her lip and looked down, accepting his words begrudgingly. She wouldn't have left Marian in the cell, even if she knew her identity. Years in the foster system, watching fellow orphans being adopted and always being the one waving goodbye, she knew what being left behind without hope was like.

Emma glanced back up at Killian, her eyes lingering on his lips. The lips she had just kissed, repeatedly kissed, only an hour ago. She could still taste him, could still feel the heat underneath her skin making her joints heavy, and could even reimagine the feeling of his fingers languidly stroking her hair. After they went back inside they stayed close together, sharing brief but comfortable touches occasionally when they knew no one was looking. Killian didn't rush to tell David and Mary Margaret of their new situation, both out of fear and because he was not quite certain where exactly he and Emma were after their kiss. Frankly, Killian believed Emma was just as clueless as he, and just as scared.

Emma leaned forward, making their brushing knees come into contact and then slip past each other, the sides of their legs now flush against each other. She wasn't used to this intimacy. When they were in Neverland, Emma could not deny the physical attraction she felt towards him, clad in leather and casting beckoning looks her way while crooking a suggestive eyebrow. Now, though, her heart had caught up, and their touching made Emma's heart beat faster, made her throat go dry.

She didn't know what they were going to become. Obviously, she knew what he felt; that they were True Love, destined to be together. And their excursions through time and the different realms logically supported his belief. Emma could not, she decided, deny any longer that she felt strongly towards the pirate. But even after visiting the Enchanted Forest and witnessing her parents fall for each other, the savior could not fully jump behind True Love and all the connotations with the label.

Before she could stop herself, she asked him. "What are we, now?"

For a second, Killian stared at her, and then chuckled under his breath. "What do you mean, love?" He asked, his eyes filled with a fondness that had always been there, but was now more obvious to Emma after their kisses.

"Well," she shifted in her seat uncomfortably, "We, you know, and,"

He held up a finger to stop her stuttering, and then dropped it onto the table, his hand covering her own. Slowly, his fingers stroked her knuckles, back and forth and then in a circular pattern over each one. They both stared at the action for a second, both in disbelief that it was actually happening.

"Sorry, ah," he managed, his fingers now rigid.

Emma shot out her other hand and covered his before he could retract. "It's fine." She smiled at him and withdrew her free hand. He shot an uncertain grin back before allowing his fingers to continue their automatic ministrations.

"You know how I have felt about you since before Neverland, Swan." He said honestly, still looking at his hand covering hers.

Emma nodded. She looked up at him and gave him a tender smile. "I hate to admit it, and it took me a while to realize it, but I felt the same." And, because she could not help herself, she teased, "Although, I think I did a better job hiding it than you did."

Killian laughed out loud at that. "Aye, lass, that you did."

For a moment, they just stared at each other, eyes conveying their adoration and a little bit of fear because of the unanswered question hanging in the space between them. The moment was broken, however, by a small cough.

Emma was the first to react, breaking away from his enrapturing gaze with a start. She looked up and instantly flushed from embarrassment. "Mary Mar-Mom!" She exclaimed uncomfortably.

Mary Margaret, still clutching onto Neal, looked between them before answering. "Emma?" Her voice raised into the questioning tone she often only used when scorning someone (usually David). Killian sighed, his hook coming behind his head to scratch at the nape of his neck, but his in tact hand never leaving Emma's. "Your Majesty." He bowed his head slightly, flitting his eyes towards Emma and then back up to the mother and baby.

Mary Margaret looked between them again, and asked as her eyes landed on their joined hands, "Is there something going on? Are you okay?" She shifted Neal in her arms as he began to squirm, small gurgles escaping his puckered mouth.

Emma felt small beads of sweat turn her hands clammy. They were going to have to inform her parents something happened eventually, but Emma never expected the moment to be upon them so soon. Hell, she didn't even know what was happening between them, since they moments ago tactfully avoided putting a label on this new development.

"I'm fine, mom." Emma consoled, shooting a tentative smile. "Hook-Killian- we..." She trailed off, her bravery collapsing as sentences tried to form in her brain, all either inadequate or incoherent.

"We were just discussing the new lodging arrangement Henry has been going on about." Killian interjected smoothly, casting his signature grin. "Emma was worried she would be too far from you and her baby brother, and I was consoling her that Prince Charming and Snow White would be more than capable of being a five minutes walk from their daughter."

Emma gaped at him, struck by the smooth lie that seemed to placate Mary Margaret. The new mother wiped a tear out of her eye and placed a hand on Emma's shoulder, Neal effectively cradled in one arm. "Oh, Emma. You really don't have to worry about me and David. We'll be totally fine. Plus, there's not much room in the loft for everyone now. And Hook is right, it's only a short walk." She bent down and kissed the crown of Emma's head. The young blonde closed her eyes and sighed, conflicted. When Mary Margaret withdrew, Emma struck a small smile.

Neal's gurgles soon turned into a soft wail and then into a loud cry. Mary Margaret bounced him a few times, and then sighed. "I should probably get him home. It'll be easier for him to sleep in his cradle than here with all these people." She cast a final nod to Killian and departed.

The minute Mary Margaret was out of earshot Emma breathed a sigh of relief she had not realized she had been holding.

Then, to Killian's dismay, she kicked his shin forcefully with her boot. "What the hell was that, Killian, really?" She demanded, hissing under breath.

Killian groaned and withdrew his hand to massage his aching leg. "Bloody hell, Swan. I'm already missing one appendage, do try and avoid damaging my others." He looked up at her unamused expression before sighing. "Look, lass, you were clearly unwilling to tell your mother the truth, so I helped out." He gestured towards the door, where Mary Margaret just made her leave.

"Truth? Killian it's not easy to admit to your mother that you were just making out with a pirate."

She avoided the hurt that cast a shadow over his eyes by looking down.

"Aye, I'm sure it's not." He said eventually, his voice soft. "But like I told you, love, I'm in this for the long haul. If that means playing by your rules, then I will."

A large lump formed in Emma's throat at his sincere confession. "Thank you." She managed, her eyes momentarily blurred.

Just as Killian was about to speak again, a large gust of chilly November air blasted into the cozy diner, signaling the entrance of David. The Prince had a fixed, determined expression plastered across his face as he walked over to the pair, shoulders set back.

Without speaking, he drew a chair from a nearby table to the edge of the booth and sat down, looking between the two of them. "Mary Margaret told me you were upset, Emma. Something about the new apartment." He let his gaze rest on his daughter and smiled gently. "We're really going to be okay." Emma opened her mouth to speak, but David cut her off with a raised hand. "But, that's not why I'm here. I didn't tell your mother this, Emma, because I felt she still needs time to recover after giving birth to your brother."

Killian shifted uncomfortably, imagining David calmly announcing his plans to make pirate stew for Sunday dinner. And they had just become mates.

David looked between them again with a small smile before speaking. "Now that my memories have shuffled after your excursion, I remember a certain conversation I had with Prince Charles." He shot a pointed look at Killian, who squirmed uncomfortably.

"You sure you want to share that story, mate?" Killian practically begged, looking at Emma as he asked the question. Emma caught his look and then looked suspiciously at her father.

"Share what story?" She asked.

"Well, when you were stuck in that cell pretending to be Princess Leia, I had a heart to heart with Charles. He consoled me that true love still existed, when I was so certain that my fate with Princess Abigail was set in stone." David sighed and then continued. "And he said something about his true love's parents not approving of him."

Emma blanched, her mouth wide open as she began to realize where the conversation was headed.

Killian shot her a look that silenced her, though she did so grudgingly.

David looked directly at Killian as he spoke. "Hook, I will admit Mary Margaret and I haven't been open to you. We judged you for your past, rather than for whom you have become. And you have done so much to protect our daughter." He looked at Emma and smiled at her, who sent a tentative smile back. "Like I said in the Enchanted Forest. I would be crazy not to give you my approval."

"Whoa-David- we don't..." Emma began, instantly becoming defensive. Killian shook his head slightly.

"There's no point in hiding the truth from everyone, love." He muttered. Emma nodded and shifted so she was fully facing her father.

"Look." She said in her matter of fact voice. "We aren't exactly sure what's going on between us. Everyone knows I'm crap at this sort of thing. Feelings. Fairy tale, true love stuff. And you know I love you guys and how much I've started to believe in you as my parents. So your approval means a lot. But I'm not sure what this is yet. I'm not going to jump gung-ho into everything after tonight." Killian looked down at her words, biting his lower lip.

David smiled at his daughter. "You're stubborn. Just like your mother. And you may not believe, but even across realms, across time, you and Hook have always found each other." And with that, he tapped his knuckles on the linoleum table, and departed.

Killian looked up at Emma again, his blue eyes still conveying hurt. "I'm not sure what to say, Swan." He admitted, voice low.

Emma titled her head to the side and worried her bottom lip before speaking. "Killian..."

He shook his head and stood up. "Shall I walk you to your lodgings?" His hand held itself out to her, and she took it as she stood. It dropped back to his side when they exited the diner and stayed down as they crossed the road to Mary Margaret's loft. He held the door of the building open for her, their eyes meeting briefly and flicked down as she walked past him, both unwilling to make eye contact.

They climbed the stairs in silence, the creaking of the old wood beneath their feet accentuating the tense climate between the two. Before, the space between them crackled with excitement and attraction, and now it felt suffocating and sour.

When they reached her door, Emma hesitated before immediately going in. "Killian-"

"Swan-" They both said at the same time. Emma laughed and gestured for him to speak first.

"Swan. Try something new. It's called love."

She let out a mirthless laugh. "That sounds oddly familiar to me."

Killian drew closer to her, his breath ghosting over her face almost undetectably. "You've begun to open your broken heart to trust, lass. Try love now. I'll give you more time, space, anything. But our kiss changed things. So I have to tell you, Swan, I'm in this for the long haul."

Emma looked up at him, eyes wide in astonishment that he wasn't yelling at her, wasn't chastising her for regressing and rebuilding some of her walls.

"Me too." She whispered, her voice choked by emotion.

And then his lips were upon hers, gentle just as they were outside the diner. Killian poured his emotions into the kiss, bringing her flush against him, stroking her hair with his good hand. Emma reciprocated, threading one hand through his thick dark hair at the nape of his neck and fisting a lapel in the other. They were desperate for each other, but did not rush the kiss. There would be time for that later.

When they broke apart, Emma rested her forehead against his own and nuzzled her nose with his. "Things will be different now." She stated.

"Aye." He answered gently, his voice still wobbly from the kiss.

"I should say good night." She said again in the same matter of fact tone.

"Aye."

"I don't want to." Emma admitted quietly, backing her head away to look at Killian.

The expression of adoration and love on his face was almost heartbreaking. He drew her back in for a final kiss before breaking apart gently and turning to head back down the stairs. Before he began his descent, he looked back at her, his suggestive grin back across his face, and winked mischievously.

"Someday you won't have to."

,...

Emma avoided her parents when she opened the door, creeping slowly across the loft to her room before she could be interrogated. All the lights were off, save the dimmed light above the kitchen sink. Apparently, they had both gone to bed, probably catching as much blissful hours of uninterrupted rest as possible before Neal woke them up in the early morning hours. Guiltily, Emma was relieved. After her talk with David, she knew that she didn't have to be secretive about her new developments with Killian, but there was still part of her that felt she couldn't comfortably admit that they were together just yet. She wanted to sort it out for herself before any one else could start putting labels on them.

Gingerly, she opened her door, squeezing past the frame before it could creak. Without changing out of her clothes still dusty from falling back through the time portal, she threw herself onto the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

...

Killian was walking aimlessly outside before returning to his own lodgings at Granny's Bed and Breakfast. Truthfully, he enjoyed the quiet night, though the Maine air was becoming too chilly to be comfortable without a coat. He was able to think through all his thoughts without interruption.

Before Cora enlisted him, he was never much of a contemplative person. As a pirate, especially after Milah died, he charged forward and never thought of consequences. Granted, he never had any consequences to suffer, because he never lived by any code or law. At night, after his swashbuckling was over, he drank rum until his own hand and hook seemed blurry. In such a drunken state, he couldn't think about anything other than lying with a women he got equally as inebriated and holding down the contents of his stomach.

Now that his head was clear of alcohol and his pirating days over, Killian found that he had many things to actually think about. During the year that never was, he thought about getting back to Storybrooke's realm, about the regrets he had over his misdeeds and mistakes with Neal, then Baelfire. Mostly, he thought about Emma. About getting back to her, reminding her that her family was waiting for her to save them again. About how he needed her just as much as they did.

He turned the corner and found himself walking along the edge of the square, just past Gold's shop. Killian's blue eyes looked inside the dingy windows, remembering back to discovering Prince Eric's cloak.

"Hook!" a young voice called out, snapping Killian out of his reflections.

Henry was running towards him, grey and red scarf caught in a trail behind him. Killian turned fully and faced the boy, a happy smile on his face. Truthfully, the past pirate adored the young lad. In many ways, Henry reminded Killian of what a young, undamaged Baelfire would have been like. But it was Henry's own heart that drew everyone in Storybrooke to him.

"What are you running about for, lad?" Killian asked jovially, raising his hook in greeting.

Henry caught up to his unlikely role-model and rearranged his coat and scarf. "I was just with mom-Regina." he corrected automatically. "She's...really upset." Killian looked down and sighed, trying without luck to think of how to proceed.

"Aye, I can imagine." He responded unhelpfully.

"Is-is my mom okay?" Henry inquired, peering his head to look up at Hook even though his head was cast downward. "Emma." He clarified.

Killian tossed around the idea of lying to the boy to protect him. Although he was by no means a father, Killian knew that it probably would not be beneficial to hear that one's mother was distressed. Mothers were rocks in their sons lives, and Killian had seen the impact of not having Milah by Bae's side during the boy's adolescence. But, Henry deserved to know what the situation was, especially considering it concerned both his mothers, and not just Emma. Plus, Killian was trying to grow close to Henry, as he wanted to become a part of the whole Charming family, and not just a part of Emma's life.

"Your mother is... feeling guilty she broke the laws of time travel. And for upsetting Regina."

Henry nodded, frowning.

"But-" Killian said, "She was right to save Maid Marian. Your mother is the Savior, lad. It's in her job description to protect people. Even if your mother knew who it was, she's not the type of person to let an innocent die."

At his words, Henry perked up, blue eyes shining. "She is the Savior, isn't she? I just wish Regina could have found her happy ending sooner."

A harsh wind blew past them, making both shiver violently. Killian drew his leather jacket around him tighter and Henry violently stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Weren't you to spend the night at the Queen's house?" Killian asked.

Henry nodded slightly. "Yeah, but I think it would be best if she were alone. She didn't really... want to talk." He trailed off, eyes looking beyond the pirate in front of him. Killian nodded in understanding. After losing Emma to Pan's curse, he was not exactly willing to converse with any member of his crew.

He raised his good hand and clapped Henry on the back, turning him in the direction of Mary Margaret's loft. "Come, I'll walk you home. Storybrooke may be through with it's latest threat but there may be a new storm coming."

**_..._**

**_to be continued_**

_(reviews are always appreciated :) thanks for reading!)_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 2_**

Emma smelt the bacon sizzling on the pan in the kitchen before she broke out of her sleepy haze. The gentle coo of her younger brother then jogged her out of her lull, though her joints still felt heavy from sleep. She dragged herself up and assessed the room around her, almost confused by her surroundings. It was her room, alright, with its sparse decorations and small dresser filled with more leather jackets than she would admit. Emma looked down and started when she realized she was still in the clothes she wore the night before, and the smell of her own sweat and the dirt that covered her jeans and skin further repulsed her. It wasn't like she hadn't roughed it before, but her trip back in time overall had not been a pleasant experience, and the reminders weren't exactly the warmest good morning present.

Hastily, Emma got out of bed, straightening the sheets with care-a habit that she developed in the foster system. Orderly rooms usually meant being ignored, which was better than the less pleasant alternative.

The kitchen greeted her with a warm sight. David manning the pan over the stove, and Mary Margaret on the bar stool by the island, burping baby Neal over her shoulder and humming soothingly.

"Morning!" Mary Margaret said enthusiastically when she spotted her daughter. Emma nodded in greeting. Then, after realizing she was supposed to be trying to be more open with her parents, Emma smiled and went over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Hi." She said with what she hoped was a cheerful voice.

"Everything okay?" David asked, turning from the pan after depositing the bacon onto a large serving dish. Although it smelled good, one look at the bacon told Emma the slabs of meat were slightly burnt around the edges. Bacon was a much more delicate meat than mutton.

Emma nodded and shrugged. "I'm exhausted. Being dirty and gross doesn't exactly help." She gestured down to her pants and gave her jeans a heavy swat, causing some dirt to rise around her. "See?" She raised her eyebrows at David and then sat down beside her mother at the island. David smiled sympathetically. He had been through enough adventures to know exactly what his daughter was feeling. "There will be time to catch up later. Why don't you get cleaned up and then we can talk later today?" Mary Margaret looked like she was about to protest, her eyebrows up high and mouth open to speak, but then she noticed the way her daughter lit up at the dismissal and ran back to her room to fetch clean clothes.

She transitioned Neal from her shoulder back to his portable crib, carefully holding his head as she buckled him into security and made sure he was comfortable. He looked up at her, bubbles of spittle falling from his slack lips. "We missed out on everything with Emma, David, but I don't think I would have missed the messes." She sighed conversationally as she took his burping rag and gently swiped it across his lips. He smiled at the sensation and raised his eyebrows, blue eyes moving around everywhere.

David took a bite of bacon and smiled lovingly at his wife and son. "He's starting to look more and more like you everyday."

Mary Margaret smiled at him and then examined her son, playing with his bootied feet to keep him occupied. "But he's got your charming smile." She conceded to him, looking back at David with all the adoration she held for him.

The Charmings were content in the silence, watching Neal wave his arms up and down and then gently drift off. Finally, it felt like a happy ending. Although they weren't in a castle on a lake, and they were just the Deputy Sheriff and school teacher instead of king and queen, Mary Margaret and David were together. They had their daughter back, and now they were blessed with a new life to rear and teach the ways of the Enchanted Forest and Storybrooke to.

A new set of feet stepping down from the top level of the loft made both parents start in confusion. David hurried to see who was emerging and sighed in exasperation when Henry, complete with admirable bedhead and bags under his eyes came trudging into the kitchen.

"Morning grandpa." He mumbled, not even looking at David, whose mouth was still stuck open in surprise.

"Henry, when did you get in last night?" Mary Margaret asked before David could speak.

Henry scratched at his eyes, sat next to his uncle and grandmother, picked up a piece of bacon, and chewed slowly before answering. "Uh, late I guess. Everyone was asleep. I was at Regina's, and Hook-"

"Kid?" Emma emerged from the bathroom, clean and hair still dripping from the thorough washing she had indulged in. "What are you doing here?" She asked, plopping down next to him.

Henry looked at her like she was crazy. "Duh. I live here. Well, not for long right, since we're getting our own place?" He plugged in hopefully. Emma nodded. "Yeah, I mean, but I thought you were at Regina's."

Her son looked down and sighed. "She didn't really want to talk." Emma nodded in quiet understanding, and before she could think of something to take his mind off his adoptive mother, Mary Margaret spoke up.

"Hook, what, Henry?" She implored.

"Oh, he walked me home. I don't know what he was doing before we ran into each other, but I told him I was walking back to the loft and he offered to come with me." He said lazily, still waking up from his groggy state. Henry had done a lot of growing in the past year, one of the newest developments being his sleep schedule and daily calories consumed. Reminded of this, he grabbed for another piece of bacon and shoved it into his mouth whole. Emma grunted in exasperation at her son, but then thought back to Hook. A light blush crept up her cheeks, and she couldn't help make eye contact with David before hastily looking down, feeling like an admonished teenager.

"Kid, why don't we go look at that apartment by the docks you were talking about before..." Emma trailed off, eager at first to change the subject and then unsure how to categorize the adventure she had had with Killian. And she wasn't exactly willing to remind Henry that there was a time where she thought New York was there home, instead of Storybrooke.

Henry looked towards her, his eyes lighting up ever so slightly, reminding Emma wistfully of the eager ten year old he once was. "Y-yeah! That'd be great. Just, let me go get changed and then we can go." He grabbed another slice of crisped bacon, shoved it in his mouth, and dashed out of the kitchen, combing his hair as he ran.

David looked at Emma pointedly. "So you're looking at a place near the water?"

Instantly, Emma knew the game they would be playing. The water was inherently associated with a certain pirate David was very much aware about. Being close to the water, thus, meant a smaller proximity to the new interest in Emma's life, and a larger one from her over protective father.

"Yeah," She challenged, her voice conveying conviction falsely. "I mean, Henry loves sailing now, and it's not out of my price range, especially after what I made last year and how much I had in the savings Regina conjured for us when Pan's curse hit." The life as a bail bonds woman was not exactly glamorous, though it paid well on the commission checks Emma would get if she caught her perp. And she always got her guy.

David nodded and Mary Margaret smiled at Emma lovingly, her hand reaching out to grasp her daughter's. "I think it will be wonderful for you two to finally make a home together in Storybrooke. You'll finally get your happy ending."

At her words, David choked on his coffee he had been sipping, and when both women looked at him, Emma in warning and Mary Margaret in concern, he waved a hand at them. "Went down the wrong way, sorry."

Father and daughter exchanged looks, their eyes conversing silently before Henry rushed down, dressed and ready to go. "Come on, let's go." He exclaimed hurriedly, grabbing his scarf from the coat rack and opening the worn down door. Emma cast her father one last look before kissing Mary Margaret and Neal on the cheek and following her son out the door.

"So you really think this place could be the one?" Emma asked as they went down the creaky stairs. Although Emma truly wanted to engage with her son, she couldn't help but cast her memory back to the night before, and the exchange of hushed, earnest words she had shared with Killian. And the kisses.

Henry nodded enthusiastically, his hair shaking, making Emma think he needed a haircut soon. She was still his mother, even if she was now caught up in a new fairy tale love scandal. "Yeah. I do. It's the perfect distance from the docks-" he looked pointedly at her, which caught Emma off guard- "And it looks right onto the water."

The two left the apartment building and shivered in the cold Maine morning air, the fog still settled low on the ground, casting Main Street Storybrooke in an ethereal haze. Emma could barely see the glowing 'Open' neon sign in Granny's Diner, even though it was only across the street.

"Hey, kid, what do you say to a cup of hot chocolate before we get going?" Emma implored, silently willing him to agree. Henry looked up at her and smiled. "As long as we get cinnamon on top."

She smiled and steered him towards the Diner so he wouldn't see the stupid grin plastered across her face. "Obviously, what kind of mother do you take me for?"

Henry stopped them, even though they were in the middle of the road, with no visibility for cars to swerve away from them if they came speeding through the intersection. "The best." He answered simply, and then dashed away into the fog towards Granny's.

At no point in her life did Emma think she would ever have a mother, let alone become one. She didn't want to subject a child to a life filled with as much struggle as she had endured. Now, even though her New York memories were an illusion, she couldn't help but feel that she was getting 11 hang of being a mother, of being part of a family unit larger than herself. Hearing Henry literally tell her she was the best meant more to Emma than she could comprehend early in the morning, and made her feel like she didn't deserve such high praise. But, dammit, if Henry thought she was the best, she would try to strive to be half the mother he saw her as. Hopefully, that would be enough.

She sniffed, not realizing the emotional impact his words had on her, and then jogged after him, eager to get some warm cocoa in her system before a long morning of house hunting.

When she opened the door to the diner, the trademark ting of the overhead bell sounding her entrance, Emma was surprised to see Hook and Henry sharing a booth across from one another, Henry with a steaming mug of cocoa and Hook with a cup of coffee.

"Swan!" He said, noticing her first. Henry turned in his chair and beckoned her over with a wave.

"Have you tried this concoction? It's called coffee, and it's quite bitter. Henry says that it will give me energy because of some sort of ingredient in it. Coffleen, he called it."

Emma rolled her eyes and smiled endearingly. "Caffeine." She corrected as she shrugged her coat off and took a seat next to her son. He slid her a cup of cocoa that had already been waiting. Emma grasped the steaming drink in her hands, reveling in the way the ceramic mug burned her clammy palms and coursed some heat through her arms. She sighed contentedly, and then took a large gulp, some whip cream sticking to her upper lip. Unable to help herself, her eyes locked onto Hook's, who could not stop from staring at her lips. He glanced back up at her eyes, alight with mirth. Killian sent her his own crooked smile and then moved forward, reaching his good hand out. Once he made the move, Emma froze, completely aware of what was about to happen but unable to get her brain to send her body some signal to do something.

His fingers were calloused, rough from 300 years trekking through a jungle and sailing on the Jolly Roger. Even though his thumb moved gently over her top lip, Emma could feel the rough pads alight her skin in a warmth stronger than the cocoa could have fresh off the stove. Then, his finger was gone, and she watched him, entranced, as he licked the cream off his thumb. It wasn't inherently suggestive or provocative, because Killian didn't make an effort to overly dramatize the action, but it still made Emma's face flush deep crimson. Luckily, Henry seemed rather oblivious, as he was looking through his phone while the whole transaction occurred.

"I, uh-" Emma cleared her throat, "I thought I got you one that couldn't get on the internet." She asked Henry, looking at him, at his phone, at the hairs on his head, not at Killian.

Henry glanced up sheepishly. "Uh, it can't. Get ready to be excited for your phone bill this month." He returned his attention to the screen as Emma gaped at him in disbelief before smacking the back of his head lightly.

"Shall we go?" Killian asked, his voice much more normal than Emma's had been. She looked at him, eyes questioning. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, I invited him." Henry interjected, putting his phone away safely in his pocket. Emma sighed. "You're welcome to come. We'd love to have you"

Killian smirked, clearly enjoying himself. "As you wish."

_**...**_

_**tbc**_

_(__Sorry for the ending in kind of a weird spot... I didn't want to make the chapter too long and there wasn't really an obvious break. We have a few more chapters of domesticity before the action begins :) Hope you enjoyed, and please review!)_


	3. Chapter 3

...

The fog was dissipating as the trio grew closer to the harbor. The shell and pebble gravel crunched beneath their feet, the only sound beside the repetitive lull of waves rolling languidly on the shore. Henry was busy rereading the ad in the classified section of the newspaper, conjuring what the new place might look like. Emma and Killian were looking everywhere and everywhere, except for at each other. Their shoulders kept brushing against each other as they walked, and Emma had to force her hand into her back pocket to keep her from accidentally touching his hand.

Killian eventually cast his eyes sideways to look at her, and when he did he caught her doing the same. The two smiled and this time their shoulders bumped on purpose, and Emma's hand left her back pocket. He didn't immediately grab her hand; rather, let the back of his hand brush against her knuckles a few times. Killian reveled in the shivers that traveled up her arm into her shoulder, amazed at the impact a simple touch could warrant in her. Although he wouldn't admit it to any other person but Emma, he experienced a very similar physical reaction to her touch. The effect he had on her was unnerving, to be sure, but not unwanted.

"This is it! Number Twelve, Penny Lane!" Henry yelled, running ahead a few yards before turning outside the front walkway. He bounced on his feet excitedly, clearly now fully awake and present. Emma mentally thanked the burnt bacon David made that she wouldn't have to house hunt with her preadolescent son on an empty stomach.

Originally, Emma imagined the description in the ad to be part of an apartment unit or condo subdivision. She was pleasantly surprised, however, when her eyes came to rest upon a single level house, with a veranda looking out onto a yard with grass struggling to hold onto their green color. The house was stucco, a variation from the traditional New England style cottages. White shutters and a white door matched the paint on the veranda, and set against the pale blue color of the house, it seemed to reflect the color of the waves it overlooked.

"Rather homely, don't you agree Swan?" Killian asked, raising his eyebrows at her. Emma set her lips together, trying to square herself for what lied ahead of her. Although Emma had said that Storybrooke was her home, it was a lot easier to be so confident when she was hugging her parents and not looking at a potential home. Apartments were temporary, in her opinion. They were easy to leave; just stop paying the rent, and you could be off. Depending on the size, not much fit in them, so whatever you had to take to get to the next place could fit into the back of a yellow buggie. Houses were different. There was an aura of permanence around them, especially considering they came with mortgages and front lawns you had to trim every Sunday. Never in her life had Emma felt comfortable in a house; either she felt constricted and unable to breathe freely, or a family that didn't love her tormented her until she ran away.

But despite her hesitance and the fear that was making her blood cold, Emma was able to focus on Henry. He was already on the veranda, peeking inside a window. He turned to Emma and Killian and beckoned them over, and suddenly Emma felt her body warm, chasing away the chill. She had a home with Henry; it didn't matter where they were, whether it was a seaside cottage or a cardboard box. As long as she had her son, she was home. Her address was just a clause in the contract.

"Henry!" Emma called to him. "We can't go in until the realtor unlocks the door."

Henry shrugged. "So? You can just magic the lock open."

Killian chuckled. "I'm sure you could do that without the magic." He murmured close to her ear, sending shivers down her spine. Emma swatted at him, but grinned playfully.

"Kid, I'm the sheriff. I can't just do illegal things…" but the look on Henry's face convinced her otherwise, and with an exaggerated groan she marched up onto the veranda, Killian in her wake.

"Alright, here goes." She said, more to herself than her two companions. Emma squared herself in front of the padlock on the door, then closed her eyes. Focusing intently on the lock, she imagined it clicking open, could picture the tumblers turning inside. A familiar sensation filled her; from her core, a cold sensation, and then when the cold became heat and began to burn in her veins, she felt something click, and Emma opened her eyes. The lock fell open and clattered to the wooden floor loudly.

"So cool!" Henry whooped. Killian laughed at his exuberance and placed his hand on Emma's shoulder, squeezing it. She looked at him and smiled tentatively.

"Whoa!" Henry exclaimed, apparently inside. The two broke out of their trance and followed.

The front door led to a mudroom and a closet for coats and shoes. The foyer then opened into an open floor plan, similar to the Charming's loft. The living room was set in the right hand portion of the house, white furniture with blue and yellow blankets and pillows adding to the apparent nautical theme. A dark coffee table sat in the center, and mounted on the wall was a decently sized television, a modern commodity not exactly frequently every Storybrooke home. A rug draped over the hardwood flooring connected the living room to the kitchen, which was complete with an island set beneath a hanging fixture for pots and pans. There was ample counter space, the cabinets white and distressed and the counters a dark marble that complimented the blue and yellow tile backsplash. To the side, a long beach wood table set behind the rug also separated the living room from the kitchen. Large windows set in the pale grey walls overlooked the harbor and let in the sunlight peaking through the fog over the water, casting a gentle glow into the room.

"Wow." Emma breathed, "I'm impressed."

Henry gawked at her. "Impressed? This is amazing!" He corrected her, running over to the large television. "This will be perfect for when we ship my Xbox from New York." His shoes squeaking on the pristine flooring, Henry ran off past the kitchen, completely disinterested, and dashed off down the long hallway off to the left.

Killian moved past Emma and stepped further into the house. "Well, Swan, I'm not exactly the most domestic pirate, but this place is rather… charming." He grinned cheekily at his own cleverness, and Emma barked out a laugh in response. "I never imagined you as a domestic person, let alone a domestic pirate."

Killian's smile softened. "I've been known to surprise."

Emma looked away at his comment, focusing instead on the kitchen, imagining cooking pancakes in the mornings, Henry seated at the island, reading his book and Killian…

"Come look at my room!" Her son called, his voice traveling down the hallway. The pair followed his summons, the hallway leading to four different doors. Henry was in the door farthest in the end, the propped open door offering a sneak peak to his future room.

It was painted a deeper blue, wonderfully convenient, and the walls were covered with floating bookshelves. The roof slanted down in the corner of his room, coming down to the large bay window that offered a panoramic view of Storybrooke's harbor. Although not an overly generous room in area, it was cozy, and ideal for Henry. Emma smiled. "This looks perfect for you, kid." She commented, absolutely meaning her words. He nodded, then dashed out to look in the other two rooms the hallway lead to. "Come here! There's a library!"

Indeed there was, with floor to ceiling bookshelves covering the entirely of each wall, save the small space reserved for a fireplace and mantle directly parallel to the French doors that opened up to the library. A painting of a ship at sea rested above the hearth, giving Killian a familiar pang in his gut. Two plush couches faced each other, each a deep shade of red. A coffee table, stacked with books, separated the two. "Oh my god." Henry breathed. "Belle would love this."

Killian smiled, eager to distract himself from the past resurfacing. "Aye, she would. But she has a whole building furnished exactly in this fashion, so I wager she wouldn't give that up for this room, impressive as it is."

The third room was a guest bedroom, and smaller than the other two rooms. A door in the corner of the wall opened to the fourth room in the hallway, the full bathroom.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" Emma asked, faking indignation.

Henry exited the room and ran across the house to the other small hallway that Emma had missed before. "Your room is in this hallway." He called. The two adults followed, a new tense atmosphere building between the two.

The second hallway only led to three doors, one an empty room with no furniture inside. Emma walked into the first door on the right, to find herself in a decently spacious bathroom, complete with a large bath (definitely big enough for two, she noted) and a "his and her" sink and vanity. The white tiles of the floor complimented the white bathtub, cabinets, and sink. Unlike the rest of the house, the walls were not nautically inspired; instead they were covered in wallpaper similar to the forest pattern in Regina's office. As they walked through the bathroom, Killian smirked at the color rising through her turtleneck and blotching her face rather deliciously. When they came to the end, Emma grabbed for the door that lead to the master bedroom and hastily stepped through the doorway.

The walls were painted a pale yellow. A dresser underneath a large mirror was set next to them, facing the rather large bed that was drawing the attention of both adults present.

"R-rather impressive quarters." Killian choked out. Emma turned to look at him and nodded in agreement, her mouth suddenly dry. Henry ran out of the room, leaving the two to revel in the tense, electric energy building between them. They could feel the physical attraction they had towards each other drawing them in closer, and could feel the pull to be close, to melt into one another, to convey every feeling Emma was too scared to face and Killian too desperate to pursue. Without realizing it, they were only inches apart, their breaths mingling together as they exhaled.

"Swan." He breathed reverently, his blue eyes memorizing every aspect of her face, his expression almost desperate for her.

Emma felt her skin grow hot under his scrutiny. While she knew that she did or was very close to reciprocating his feelings entirely, Emma still could not believe that anyone could look at her so intensely and so sincerely.

"I…" She began, unclear of what exactly she wanted to say.

Killian moved his good hand on the curve of her waist, his grip gentle to the point it was barely touching her. Emma didn't fight the action, but she didn't move at all, either. She didn't think she would ever be able to, the way he was looking at her with complete, almost painful adoration. Her heart was seizing, and her joints locking her in place.

Even with Neal, before she had been sent to prison, Emma had never had such a physical reaction to a human being before. Not just in the physical attraction department, either; Emma could handle herself when it came to confident flirtation and one night stands. She never felt so emotionally intense around another person, and she had never experienced being rendered completely unable to form coherent sentences or thoughts.

The reverie that had consumed her and the energy crackling with attraction broke when a fourth voice traveled throughout the house. "Hello? Ah, hello Henry. I figure your mother has something to do with the rather quiet break in to the house I'm selling."

Killian looked down, licking his lips and scratching at his beard with his hook. "It seems… Rumplestiltskin is the merchant of this house."

Emma blinked herself out of her trance and then groaned when her mind caught up to her. "Great. Just the guy I want to find us breaking and entering."

Killian shifted his hand to the small of her back and ushered her out of the room, looking back at the bed one last time.

Gold met them in the hallway, both hands in front of him, cane cradled between them. "Well, I wish we could have met today under less illegal circumstances." He lilted.

Emma stepped forward. "Look, Gold, we just wanted to see the house. _Henry_ just wanted to see the house. We didn't touch anything." Gold looked down at Henry at her words, and Emma felt her hook lining and sinking. The miserly shop owner had a soft spot for his grandson.

"If it helps," Henry piqued. "We'll take it. Right, mom?" He looked at his mother and smiled smugly, knowing the trap he had landed her in. Emma groaned. She wasn't one to act rashly- well, she was, but buying a house was an exception. But the place was perfect in every way for them. And it was so close to the water…

"Right." She said squarely, looking from Henry to Gold. A smile graced her lips, a combination of smug and elated. "If you have no other offers, then you might as well draw the papers."

Gold started, taken aback. "Well, then no harm, no foul." He eventually said, and raised a hand, conjuring the contract in mid air.

Emma grabbed the contract before Gold could and began looking it over. "So where's the catch?" She asked, earning a laugh from Killian.

Gold raised his eyebrows and took a jaunty step forward. "What ever do you mean, Ms. Swan?"

Emma raised her own eyebrow disbelievingly in response. "Come _on_, Gold, everyone knows stuff comes at a price with you." Gold scoffed, though he did not contradict her.

"The only price that comes with this deal is that you move in rather hastily. I'm afraid this house has been on the market for some time, and it's been draining both my time, and some of my expenses." He looked about the house, as if appraising it based on the cramped hallway they were all still standing in.

Emma nodded warily. "Just… let me look at the contract first, okay?" She asked, moving past everyone to sit at the large table stationed between the living area and kitchen. Although Emma wasn't trained in law, or contracts, she had dealt with enough of them as a bail bonds woman, and was used to spotting unclear language or loopholes that generally did not favor her end of the bargain. Surprisingly, after reading and rereading the two pages, Gold's contract was fair.

"Uh, I'll need a pen to sign." She said, looking back at them.

Killian shrugged, holding his hand and hook palm up. Obviously, a leather-clad pirate wouldn't be expected to carry a writing utensil around with him. But, Emma figured, she could sign with his kohl if she were desperate enough. A small smile graced her lips as she imagined this, and Killian raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Swan?" He asked.

"Nothing." She smirked, her voice full of humor.

"Well, I'm sorry to say I am not carrying one either." Gold said, patting his suit pockets.

Henry also shook his head. "I'm twelve and not in school. Why would I carry a pen around?" His eyes lit up. "Wait! Conjure one!"

Emma's eyes widened, alarmed. "Now hold on, making stuff move around is one thing, but I've never tried to make something appear out of mid-air."

Killian crossed the room and bent down at the knee to look her in the eyes. "Swan, you could create a looking glass across the realms using mirror magic, something not even the Queen could do easily. Don't begin to doubt yourself now." He whispered, resting his hand on her knee. Emma's green eyes locked onto his hand, then his face, her mind turning with the double meaning of his words. Her jaw set, and she nodded. "Okay." Emma said through gritted teeth. Her eyes closed, and she imagined a pen appearing in her hand, holding it in, and signing the papers. Her body grew cold, and then when she began to grow hot, something snapped, and in a gleam of white light, a pen appeared suspended in the air above her open palm.

"I did it!" Emma exclaimed, face alight with excitement. Her free hand grabbed Killian's, which still rested on her knee and squeezed. "Thank you." She mouthed as Henry cheered and ran over to her.

"Okay, kid," She said, smiling at her son. "Here goes." Emma uncapped the pen and signed her name with a flourish on the dotted line. The contract disappeared in a cloud of smoke and then reappeared in Gold's hands.

"Very nice to do business with you, Ms. Swan, as always. The house comes with the furniture inside, so you can move in any time you wish. I'll contact you later with information about the mortgage and payment plan." He nodded at the three of them, and made his leave.

"We have our own place now." Henry breathed. "Whoa."

Emma nodded, overwhelmed by emotions. "Yeah." She choked. "Whoa."

…

David and Mary Margaret collapsed onto their couch, both exhausted from trying to get Neal to nap. He had wailed through all the lullabies and through a half hour of bouncing up at down, but finally had fallen asleep.

"Figures it took the unicorn mobile spinning to get him to quiet down." Mary Margaret grumbled. The two had purchased the mobile that had hung above Emma's crib in her nursery, and even though it wasn't exactly a boy decoration, they found it was their favorite part of Neal's nursery.

David grunted in response, letting his body melt into the couch. He couldn't believe how _tiring_ it was having a baby, especially one that wasn't sleep trained.

"Can I ask you something?" Mary Margaret asked, her eyes still closed and body relaxing into the couch just as David was. David grunted again. His wife shifted, turning towards David, her eyes open and curious.

"Do you think there's something going on between Emma and Hook?" She asked, putting her chin on David's shoulder. David's eyes snapped open, and he shifted uncomfortably. He couldn't just tell a secret that wasn't his to tell. Plus, Emma had confided in him, and he didn't want to betray her trust. But… Mary Margaret was her mother, and had a right to know. Or did she? Emma was a grown adult, capable of making her own choices.

David reminded himself Emma was still their daughter, and Mary Margaret was his wife. And he didn't want to face her wrath once she eventually found out the truth about the budding relationship.

"Promise me you won't tell Emma I told you." He begged, and was now fully awake after his contemplation. Mary Margaret straightened herself up, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Tell Emma what? What do you know?" She asked, voice lowering in disapproval.

David sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Emma and Killian. They're together."

Mary Margaret gasped, a hand flinging to her heart and the other gripping David's shoulder. Her nails dug into the flesh, and even though the fabric of his sweater, David winced at her strong grip.

"What?" She nearly shouted, then ducked her head when David held a finger to his lips. "What?" Her voice came out as a whisper now.

David bent forward, clasping his hands together and placing them between his knees. "You remember Prince Charles and Princess Leia, and how they were actually Emma and Killian?"-Mary Margaret nodded-"Well, Charles and I had a talk, and he admitted to me that he would follow his true love across realms or time, but that he wasn't going to pursue her because he wasn't sure she felt the same, and her parents didn't approve."

Mary Margaret placed the hand gripped David's shoulder onto his back and rubbed soothing circles. "And what did you say?" She refused to cast judgment on David until she heard the full story.

David looked at her, a melancholy grin on his face. "I said that they would be crazy not to."

His wife settled back in the couch, a contemplative frown on her face. "Ah." She said. David nodded. "And I think I'll stand by that statement. I would be crazy not to approve of Hook. I told him, Mary Margaret, last night, that we had judged him based on his past, instead of considering him for who he is now. And Emma is partly responsible for his change in character." He grasped his wife's hands and stroked them, looking at her face as she worried the idea in her head. Finally, she spoke.

"I think it's time I have a heart to heart with my daughter."

…

_**tbc**_

**_Sorry I haven't updated in basically a month... I went on a school trip to South Africa for a cultural exchange program. It was an amazing experience. Hope this long chapter kind of makes up for my absence. _**

**_I'm also all caught up on the SDCC panels... can't wait to see what captain swan moments will happen in season 4! _**


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